Fleeting Remembrances
by Faylin-Linx
Summary: Sequel to 'The One Unforgotten' Awareness becomes unecessary the span of moments, when much can be remembered and much can be lost.


Fleeting Remembrances  
-Sequel to The One Unforgotten-

-For Holiday Bullet-

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The world was a blanket of darkness, of sin and silence lain around him, stifling him, holding him down. It was in these times that sleep was preferable, and yet now with sleep came the memory of a man.

This man gazed upon him from about, eyes of the purest, mako-enhanced green, though he'd never once before thought of mako energy as pure, not after what it had been harness to do...to be used for. The mutilation of a child, the death of a brave and loving woman, a beautiful woman..Lucretia.

The memory tore through him like a well place dagger, piercing his heart, opening what he considered to be a fast festering wound, furthering the damage there as such memories always did.

'Forget her.' No

Long, flowing silver hair, and those stirring eyes. Another unneeded memory for a proverbial corpse.

'Forget him.'

Soft, warm lips, lulling betrayal, a pleasurable and wholly unexpected shock.

'No.'

There had been a warmth in the man, and...something else.

Vincent let his thoughts drift, realizing their pointlessness and reveling in it. This, this was exactly what he needed, something to help him forget, and something to make him remember in light of forgetting...to take the place of another, more painful memory.

A brown-haired beauty traded for a silver-haired God. Concerned kindness switched out for commanding power that demanded obedience. he defied in his torment then, and though he did not expect to ever lay eyes upon the man, that SOLDIER again, he knew he would do so again if given the chance.

It was strange how he had been drawn to fight and then to give in naught but a few precious moments, and for what seemed to be many a year since the strange meeting itself, he reflected upon this, reflected upon what had drawn weary emotions to the surface.

Yes, he was weary of emotions and of guilt, and yet, while the emotions could be easily banished, the guilt, he knew, would remain ever present.

Her child an experiment, her life forfeit to a man who did not deserve to so much as look at her, a cruel man, a scientist...Hojo.

A growl to escape the raven haired ex-turk as he thought of that particular man, but it was cut short as he sound of footsteps caught his attention.

His heartbeat quickened to match the brusque steps as he was suddenly wrought with unexplainable anticipation.

The lid slipped open and, long silver hair, green mako infused eyes, and creamy, flawless skin were revealed to his eyes. No..it was but a trick of the light, for the one before him had not long silver hair, but spiky blonde hair. He frowned.

"Who is it!? ...Never seen you before. You must leave." he said, words spoken in a husky voice, once gain finding itself in disuse until now.

"You were having a nightmare," the blonde replied, his expression a strange one that Vincent could not bring himself to read.

Another voice piped in, coming from a large, dark-skinned man with a gun arm who stepped into view, and peered down at him. "I woke ya up. You outta be thankin' me."

A nightmare? They thought this was a nightmare? Vincent nearly laughed aloud, though instead he ended up settling for a tone gruff dismissal wrought with many a pause. "Hmph... a nightmare...? My long sleep has given me time to atone.

The spiky haired man spoke once again, apparently not ready to leave him in peace just yet."What are you saying?" he asked, seemingly confused, and the ex-turk had the distinct feeling that such wasn't new to the young blonde before him.

Crimson eyes narrowed in distinct disapproval. "I have nothing to say to strangers. Get out. This mansion is the beginning of your nightmare."

'Just leave me in peace, let me atone.'

"...you can say that again."

Amusement and wariness sparked at once in Vincent's crimson gaze upon hearing those words issue forth. Now he was curious.

"Hmm? What do you know?"

"Talk about Sephiroth," the blonde began, pause and quickly added,"Like you said, this mansion is the beginning of a nightmare. No, it's not a dream, it's for real. Sephiroth has lost his mind. He found the secrets hidden in this mansion..."

'Secrets? What secrets?' Vincent searched his mind for the answers and came up empty. Then a flash took him by surprise and he frowned. Sephiroth. A fitting name. An image of his silver-haired visitor from what now seemed to be eons ago.

"Sephiroth? ...You know Sephiroth?" Vincent asked, his tone clearly projecting his wariness. Was this other to be trusted?...perhaps...and perhaps not, but he had to know. The blonde wanted talk. He relented. "...You begin first."

At this the spiky haired one launched into a story, one that left Vincent reeling by the end. Remembrance hit him two-fold, followed by guilt, hard and heavy, slamming powerfully against him so as to inflict as much pain as possible. Sephiroth, his green-eyes visitor, Lucretia's wronged child, all were one...how could things have gone so abysmally wrong?

His eyes reflected his inner suffering and yet those staring down upon him seemed to take no heed for it, if they noticed it at all.

"It's your turn."

"...I cannot speak."

Anger met these hesitant, anguished words.

Tone pleading, he retaliated with words, trying to convey his feelings to them. "Hearing your stories has added upon me yet another sin. More nightmares shall come to me now, more than I previously had. Now... please leave." Surely they would understand.

A pale hand reached up and tugged the lied back over the coffin from within, and darkness cloaked him once again. The blissful darkness of sinners. He was a damned man...this he was more sure of now than ever before.

Moments passed, seeming like years, timeless, no endless, moments floated by and the the coffin slid open once more.

"...You're still here." Vincent sounded non-plussed to say the least in light of this latest interruption of his atonement.

"Who are you? At least tell us your name." ...The blonde again...

Again he found himself relenting in his weakened state, blaming it for this surrender of self. "I was with... the Shinra Manufacturing Department... in Administrative Research, otherwise known as-- the Turks... Vincent."

Vincent.

From the other side of the door, unseen and unheard by those behind it, Sephiroth placed his hand against the wood, caressing it reverently with a gloved hand as he repeated the name to himself.

"Vincent."

The name slipped easily past his lips, rolling off his tongue in a hushed murmur filled with something unidentifiable...

For but a moment he remembered, and then he was gone.

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End file.
